


Anchorage

by willowthorn



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Light Bondage, Other, Spanking, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 07:00:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowthorn/pseuds/willowthorn
Summary: Grand wants to be good for Echo





	Anchorage

City lights filter through tinted windows, light cotton blinds moving like pale ghosts in the summer wind. Grant's room is cast in shadows, dark and graphic where the ambient light cannot reach. The light catches just so on the material of Echo's pleather pants, highlighting the curve of their muscular thighs as they consider the body bared on the sheets before them. Grand swallows, pulling gently at the silk around his wrists, trying to get a better look. The snap of a crop against the sheets sends him flat, his breath catching in his throat. 

"You're going to be good for me tonight, Mag. No whining, no running, no back talk unless you're ready to be punished for it. Understood?" 

Grand nods, and the crop comes to tilt his head back, Echo staring down at him. "I asked you a question." 

"Yes. Yes, I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want." He speaks in a rush, whimpering as the crop trails down his chest. 

"Good boy. Safe word?"

"Stop." Grand closes his eyes as he responds, as Echo leaves his field of vision. 

"Good." The first blow cracks across the meat of his thighs, muscles jumping as he gasps. The sting hasn't even begun to fade when Echo brings the crop down on his other leg. He spreads his legs wider, and feels the smooth leather of the crop brush over his crotch, slowly. 

"Look at you, so willing already. You want me to fuck you, don't you?" They crop trails higher, pulling back from just above his heart. Grand nods, tilting his hips just slightly. "You're going to need to work for it."

The crop comes down, a quick one-two snap. Grand's thighs press together as he hisses, a flush rising on his cheeks. "Roll over." 

Echo's calloused hands trace over the dip of his spine, the curve of his ass. He hears the crack of their hand against him before he can feel it, his startled shout dissolving into a moan as Echo's palm soothes away the pain. They move quicker after that, until Grand's face is buried in the sheets, his legs trembling. Echo calls him good, says that the bruises that are threatening to break through the red of their hand prints contrast beautifully. They pull back, and the air is so cold in their wake. 

"We're going to do some wax play tonight. Imagine how pretty that will be, every drop influenced by my hand, by the curve of your body." He can hear the flick of a lighter, the hiss of the wick catching. A shiver courses through him. White wax trembles at the cusp, waiting for Echo's steady hand to tilt just a bit more. "White, to go against the red." They say, the first few drops sliding over Grand's shoulders. He groans, heat dripping through him. Drop after drop trails down his spine, hardening before they spill onto the sheets. His hips stutter, Grand unable to help himself from squirming. His crotch brushes just so against the sheets, electric. He can feel how ready he is already. And then the wax drips over the throbbing sting of his ass. And then the sheets are in his mouth, his needy whimpering muffled. 

He hears the click and hiss of the lighter come once again, light sounds surrounding him. He lets himself relax against the sheets, breathing deep and slow. He is a diver above water, and Echo's hand against the middle of his back feels like the tide. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Good." They kiss his shoulder, watching together as the candle tips over the backs of his hands. The wax, purple, narrowly avoids the red of his bonds. His fingers twitch, the surface of the wax cracking. He takes one drop on each hand before they move back, the new heat splashing over skin made sensitive by the first pass. 

He pulls the silk tight, and Echo says that he's doing good, that he can take just a bit more, and then Echo will let him rest a bit. He nods into the crook of his arm, his breathing coming out as shuddering moans. He feels like he's on fire, he feels like he will melt. Echo's hands are so cool and steady in contrast. They run down his sides, his legs, between. He's doing so well, just for Echo. Echo was the only one allowed to drop wax on his hands. Echo was the only one allowed to tie him up like this. Echo was the only one allowed to see him like this, no mesh, no shirt, no anything between how he was and how he appeared to be. Echo, Echo, Echo. He moans their name with need, and he can feel both their hands working to free his wrists. 

They make sure he stretches as he rolls to the side, reaching out to bury himself in their neck. They kiss his brow, push him back until he's laying flat again. They hover over him for a moment, the shine of moonlight on them. He's pinned, and they are content to just watch him. Another kiss. "Tell me what you need, Mag."

"You. I need you, I want you, please -"

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Echo kisses into his cheek, their chest brushing his own. He aches. He arches, and Echo's hand meets him, takes him. He whines, and Echo pulls back. Their palm is on his cheek, catching his attention. "Grand." It's a warning, a reminder of the rules. He needs to communicate if he wants anything. 

"God, please fuck me. I want you in me, I want to feel you, I want to-" Echo kisses him, pulling back. 

"Let me get the strap." He groans as they leave, boneless without their pull. The heat within him makes it hard to focus, makes it harder still to think of anything but the selection of dicks Echo had at their disposal. He wonders if he's going to have to deal with wicked curves and texture on top of texture, or if Echo wants to fuck him with something that looks like it could be their own, a glide of smooth silicone, a firm core. 

Echo comes back without leather on their hips, their dick a bold line arcing out from their public mound. It matches them well, darkly flushed. He sits up, tongue flitting between his lips as he considers. He thinks he can see a glint of metal at the base. "That's new."

"Do you want to taste it before I-?" Grand is already on his knees, reaching out. Echo lets him, and he can feel the dick jump ever so slightly under his fingers. Alright, it was one of those models. Echo probably still couldn't feel it much more than they could feel their usual strap, but it reacted more to them. Perfect. "Yeah, let me." 

He knows what Echo likes to see by now. He knows to look them in the eyes for just a moment as he kisses the head of their dick. They push his hair back as he works, sighing as he swallows. He doesn't know what they did, how it tastes so much like them, but he groans, shifting just slightly to take them further. He can feel Echo's hands clench in his hair, their dick throbbing in his throat. The small noises they make, little moans and bitten sighs let him know just how well he's doing. But the look in their eyes as he pulls back to breathe sends heat right through him. They kiss him roughly, pushing his legs apart as they push him back. He feels the wax on his upper arms flake away, little cracks of sensation that do nothing to distract him from the press of fingers into him. He gasps, going pliant under Echo's hand. Their hands always feel so good in him, working him open with practiced ease. It's too quick, it's not quick enough. 

Echo kisses him, and he returns each touch with desperation. He doesn't want to stop feeling them, doesn't want them to break away, but they do. It takes a second, but their lack has him whining. He hears the pop of a lube bottle, feels the press of cold wet between his legs. He didn't think he needed it, but it feels so good, everything smooth and easy between them, and he's so open, he's so ready, he just wants- 

Echo's fingers curve inside of him, and he can feel himself drop. He moans, too loud, arm pressed against his eyes. "Fuck, please fuck me, Echo, please, I-" 

His heart is hammering, his breath hitching as Echo moves against him, all their touches so light all of a sudden. They kiss his chest, glide into him. He whimpers, they bite, and he twists, clinging with all he can to the silk ropes twisted above him, a welcome anchor. Echo holds his hips down. He's so good for them, so needy, so open, so _good_. He cums easily, Echo rolling into him, lifting his hips just so.

He's red from the tips of his ears to his chest, Echo's hair smooth under his hand. They grin into his neck, rubbing his shoulders, his arms. He breathes deeply. They smell like fresh air and raw earth, and when he kisses them, it is slow, and it is gentle. 

"Hey," He leans his head against theirs, tracing lines down their spine. "Want to whip me before round two?" 

"God yeah."


End file.
